


Searching for Pieces After the Fall

by misslizanne



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 3x12 - Freeform, F/M, New York City Serenade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misslizanne/pseuds/misslizanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The deleted scene from 3x12 that should have been...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Searching for Pieces After the Fall

“What in the bloody blazes was that?” Hook shouts as he busts through the door.

Emma just shakes her head, walking past him in a blaze of fury as she marches down the steps, Hook trailing hesitantly behind her.

Walsh was a monkey. A motherfucking  _monkey_. And she’d dated him. For eight goddamn months. And holy fuck, she’d slept with him.

“Love, are you alright?” Hook asks, his voice all sincerity and concern, and clearly everything she needs in this moment but certainly can’t handle.

Emma huffs, loud enough for it to echo through the empty hallway back to her apartment. “I’m fine,” she responds, busting through the door and marching straight for the liquor left open on the counter, noticing his glass refilled since she left. She picks it up, the liquor sloshing down her throat as she sighs at the burn. 

“Was your former dalliance a monkey?” Hook asks.

She looks up for a brief moment, sees the glimmer of a smirk quirking at the corners of his lips. She wants nothing more than to slap the damn thing off of him, but she can’t help but laugh, and it comes out in a loud kind of giggle that has his brow furrowing at the ridiculous sound coming from her mouth.

“He’s a fucking monkey,” she finally blurts out, giggles still erupting from her throat as he steps towards her.

He lifts an eyebrow and hesitantly asks, “Have you gone mad, Swan?”

She finally calms, taking the liquor bottle in her hand and lifting it to her lips, taking a long sip as she saunters towards the couch. “Maybe,” she whispers as she walks past him, his eyes following her figure as he turns his head over his shoulder. “Join me, Hook,” she adds, patting down on the empty space next to her on the couch.

He obliges, sitting down with a grand plop, like the weight has finally been lifted off his shoulders, and she notices his body practically melt into the cushions.

She hands off the bottle to him, and he takes a sip, and then another, a gruff groan of a sigh escaping from his lips that has her thighs unwillingly clenching together.

“I suppose we’ll have to return to Storybrooke soon?” she questions, voice not that of the strong savior who’d just bludgeoned  ~~Walsh~~  the monkey on the rooftop.

Hook nods, cocking his head to the side, handing off the bottle. “Aye, but there’s no rush if you need time.”

She smiles, taking a gulp before setting the bottle down on the coffee table in front of them. “I’ll be fine. I’m the savior. I don’t have time to wait,” she rattles off, voice growing more shaky as the memories settle in, as her purpose renews itself.

She’s lost in her own stupor and neglects to notice his hand rubbing calming circles on her arm, and she flinches slightly before looking up at him, his eyes so wide and full of hope and so  _blue_  and the motion feels right, feels  _natural_  as she grabs the lapels of his coat, crashes her lips down onto his, moving her head to the side, eager to taste every inch of him.

“Swan,” he murmurs against her lips, his hand inching up her spine as she straddles him against the back of the couch. “ _Emma_.”

“Don’t talk,” she mumbles, throwing her shirt over her head and unclasping her bra in a calculated motion that even has her surprised.

He leans his head up, tongue lapping over her breast, eliciting a quiet moan from her throat. His teeth nibble, tongue continuing to flicker over the burn it creates on her skin as she shuffles the coat off his shoulders, swiftly working on the clasps of his vest.

“Emma, wait,” he stutters against her skin after she rids his torso of the fabric covering it, the shirt left hanging off his fake hand. “Is this what you want?”

She breathes shakily, her bottom lip tugging inside her teeth. “I spent a year without you. And now you’re  _here_. And… and… my gut tells me this feels right.”

“But are you sure?” he asks, ever the gentleman even when she’s taken half her clothes off and has practically asked him to take her with only a look.

Emma leans down, ghosting her lips over his. “I’ve never felt more sure.”

That’s enough to compel him to continue, and Hook brings his good hand up, pulling her head down and searing a kiss onto her lips, his tongue darting in to stroke hers. She fumbles with the laces of his pants, pushing them down just enough to expose him, and the breathy groan that hums into her mouth when her fingers splay out over him is enough to drive her crazy.

He picks her up off his lap, placing her down gently on the couch, good hand working the leather pants off his legs. He places soft, chaste kisses down her torso, slowly working on her plaid pants, unbuttoning them and pulling them down her legs, caressing each inch of skin the loss of fabric creates.

As he slinks back up her body, he stops at the lacy hem of her underwear, his eyebrow arching alongside the gratified smirk on his lips. “My, Swan, your realm has all sorts of wonders. Including these.”

She chuckles at the statement, and gosh, he probably hasn’t been like this with anybody since Milah, let alone someone from her realm. “Get on with it, Hook,” she quips, pushing his shoulder playfully.

He snorts at the jab. “As you wish, m’lady,” he murmurs, and his fingers alone are strong enough to rip the fabric from her skin, tossing them effortlessly over his shoulder in the direction of the rest of their clothes.

He dips a finger gently into her, her back arching slightly against his touch and dear God, how was it possible to miss someone this much when you couldn’t remember them for a whole year?

He continues slinking up her frame, his talented fingers working on her release as she reaches out for his shoulders, needing some sort of steadiness in the light of everything that has happened. He feels like her anchor, her guiding star, and goddamnit, this feels good right now.

“Will you come for me darling?” he grumbles into her ear, lips brushing across the skin of her neck.

She nods, lips pursing tightly as she rides her hips into his hand, whimpering when the cold metal of his rings hits that little bundle of nerves and she rolls her hips, chasing that sensation as much as she can.

Her feet clench against the cushion, mouth freezing open as she flutters around his fingers, eyes squeezing shut, her body shuddering at the sudden loss of heat as he pulls them out, swiftly thrusting himself into her and giving her no time for recovery.

He feels warm and welcoming and so much like  _home_ , and she opens her eyes to see his gaze, never once leaving hers, memorizing her features as if he’s still afraid he’ll lose her, that this is a dream.

“ _Killian_ ,” she whispers, running fingers through his hair reassuringly as he slides into her, her body traveling further up the couch with each thrust. She tugs on his hair, pulling him up into a kiss that almost does them both in, mouths moving hungrily against one another, fighting for dominance, even though they both know they are equal in every way.

This whole year, she felt like a part of her was missing, that something was left unfulfilled, and when he gasps, hard and loud into her mouth, both of them clamoring for each other amidst the white-hot heat that envelops them both, she realizes that he was missing. It was him. It was  _Killian_.

———

The loud knock on the door wakes them, and she realizes they spent the night sleeping on the couch, naked and sweaty from the night before.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she mumbles, moving his good hand off from its comfortable position around her hip. She stands up, throwing her clothes on and shaking him abruptly awake. “Hook, get up.”

He grouses, his tousled, sex-crazed hair swept across his brow as he looks at her from beneath hooded eyes. “Swan, what is it? Another monkey?”

( _E_ _ven when he’s tired, he’s still a cheeky bastard_ , she thinks, throwing clothes at him, chuckling when he swats them away like a child).

“Get up,” she whispers, rolling her own eyes when he smirks at the bareness of her torso before she throws her shirt over her head. “Henry’s back, and I can’t let him see us like this.”

Hook reaches an arm out, pulling her down into his lap. His lips hover close to hers, hot exhales washing over her face. “I’ll make my way out the back window and meet you in the hallway, love.” He places a soft kiss to her lips, bringing her hand to his lips and repeating the motion.

It feels fuzzy and lovely and everything the savior shouldn’t get to have, but here he is, traveling across realms, braving a strange city to find her, making her feel whole again.

The loud banging on the door jolts them, and she quickly jumps off his lap, pointing towards the back. He finishes dressing and tips his head like some chivalrous fool before retreating out the back window onto the fire escape.

Emma has to shake her head at the craziness of the past twelve hours. Yesterday, she was a mother, with a son and a life and a maybe-fiancé. And today, she’s the savior, the daughter of Snow White, the product of true love.

It still feels strange but not entirely wrong, and as she walks towards the door, she realizes that with Hook at her side, maybe being the savior again won’t be all that bad.


End file.
